The Bottom of the Valley
by totaldefeat
Summary: Ch 7: Continuation of Blur (ch 5, non con incest). Ch 6: Sasuke's life pre-shippuuden could have been different. Collection of unrelated, unless stated otherwise, shorts. Appropriate warnings and summaries are placed before each chapter.
1. Madness

**A/N** : I am so damn done with this short story. Lately I've been tired even though I sleep enough. Proofreading will be tomorrow, excuse the mistakes. I think this is as close, so far from what I've written in fan fiction, as to how I normally write. In other words very detached. You can see how I have no patience for words.. I'm going to Las Vegas next Thursday. Anyone have recommendations of places to visit?

This will be a collection of short stories or drabbles varying from couple hundred of words to a couple of thousand and they will focus on mature topics. There will be proper warnings and summaries before each chapter formatted and I suggest you read them carefully. You can request shorts and I'll do them if I'm feeling motivated at the time.

If you don't understand what's happening, ask and I will be direct about it. If you want to keep wondering, don't ask.

 **Pairing** : None

 **Summary** : There's a serial killer on the loose in Konoha. Sometimes problems are not just about peace, but personal and questionable. Hashirama is uneasy, Tobirama has suspicions and Madara is good. It's not a big mystery.

 **Warnings/tags** : drowning, violence, brother complex, implied drug use, hanging end

* * *

One by one villagers were killed; ninja clansmen, mothers, the elderly, nearly anyone out on the streets was a target. It was peculiar, that a murderer of this degree could have mercy upon children. In a tower that resided at end of the village, far off from the main entrance gates, were two brothers discussing that specific matter.

"I don't see a pattern in the victims," said a silver haired man. He tossed papers held together by a paperclip and slumped into a seat across from his brother. Unlike himself, his brother was tanned and had long chestnut hair that reached to his waist.

The older let out a sigh, a frown on his features. "I don't understand this either, Tobirama."

There was no relation between the dead villagers, appearing to be the works of indiscriminate killings, and no motives to be found to point them in the right direction. The clues they had were that the homicides occurred during the night and that children were left unharmed.

Tobirama shifted in his seat, a finger to his temple and an elbow resting on the armrest. He glanced at Hashirama before deciding to voice his opinion.

"There have been rumours about this. About who and why the serial killer is murdering innocent civilians," he started, noticing how his brother's interlaced hands tensed on top of the desk. "Do you know what they say, Brother?" he questioned.

He could see the effect his delayed revelation had on the other by, for instance, the twitch of the man's facial muscles, the saddened eyes looking at him and downturned mouth. If what Tobirama saw was as palpable as he could feel it on his skin, then he would say he could see the insides of his brother squeeze and twist in itself.

"No, I haven't paid any attention to the rumours," Hashirama answered.

"They've been saying it's strange how none of the deceased are Uchiha. That it's probably an Uchiha prancing around the streets murdering every non-Uchiha they see," Tobirama said, spitting the last part in distaste. He fixed his gaze onto the window behind Hashirama, staring at his own reflection. He continued, "The villagers avoid them, Brother. They don't want the Uchiha clan near them in fear that they'll be the next unfortunate one."

As Hashirama let the information sink in, his fingers immediately dug into his hands, clawing their way to his knuckles and stopping to steady himself. He couldn't stand it. What was the purpose of creating the village, the alliance between the Senju and Uchiha clan, if the result was for the people to not only blindly fear the Uchiha but lay the blame on them? Ostracize the unwanted and the ones their hatred stemmed from.

"It isn't like you to jump to conclusions this quickly," Hashirama said, albeit strained. "Is there a reason for that?"

Some moments of silence passed as he watched the inner turmoil run about in Tobirama, waiting patiently for a response. Tobirama exhaled a long and slow breath.

"It feels like a trap," he admitted. Leaving his bias aside, although reluctantly, he recognized how the whole situation seemed like it had been set up. It reeked of a scheme of someone who detested the clan enough to lay the suspicions on a maniac Uchiha on a killing spree. Loathed them enough to want to chase them out of the village.

"Are you saying someone is purposely framing Madara's clan?" Hashirama asked, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. A tired smile from his brother made it a statement. Tobirama then shrugged, looking past Hashirama and through the window again.

"It's a possibility. It doesn't make the chances of the serial murderer being an Uchiha any less," he said almost offhandedly.

Whether or not Tobirama liked the highly susceptible clan, maybe this was his way of trying to get along with the Uchihas, Hashirama thought.

"I look at the evidence," his brother added with grumble.

It sounded like an excuse.

* * *

He wondered what he should tell his friend the next time he saw him. Would Madara become enraged and start insulting him in an attempt to calm himself? Or would he remain silent and gather the members of his clan to a meeting to persuade them of standing their ground?

"Hashirama?" Madara halted in his steps, watching Hashirama walk past him. When his friend didn't turn to wait for him or seem to notice he left Madara behind, it confirmed that there was something wrong. Madara gazed at Hashirama's retreating figure, getting smaller and lost into a crowd. Was the position of Hokage taking a toll on him?

The slight tug on his sleeve shook Hashirama out of his thoughts and his eyes landed on Madara.

"Hashirama," Madara repeated, finally getting the man to stop. He scowled, but it was gone in a second.

"What is it, Madara?" Hashirama asked. He received an odd look masked in the other's usual poker face.

"I should be asking you that. You paused in the middle of talking and started walking without watching where you were going," Madara said. Hashirama laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Did I? Sorry, where was I?" Madara narrowed his eyes on him, making Hashirama drop his arm and give a gentle smile.

"Why the serious face?"

Sighing, Madara began wandering along the streets. A breeze blew by, rustling the trees off their leaves and he raised his head. He snatched a falling leaf into his hand and turned it over, inspecting it. Hashirama looked on in amusement from beside him.

"It's nothing," Madara muttered and it took Hashirama a while to comprehend what was said to him. They continued their afternoon stroll in peace, sometimes exchanging a few words. Today was one of the days where neither felt like rambling on and on about their fulfilled dreams and whether or not they'd found a new dream to chase.

The leaf twirled in between Madara's fingers, appearing as a blur of green. He gazed up at the clouds floating by above in the sky, a tune playing in his mind. He heard Hashirama chuckle and he almost jumped back at it, realizing he had been swaying his head to the silent music.

He twitched and barked at his friend, "Don't laugh." It earned an eruption of laughter. Hashirama wiped a tear from his eye, hitting Madara in the back as he laughed. The growl didn't stop him.

"It's just…" Hashirama started and as if understanding dawned upon him, paused. He turned to Madara, wide-eyed and kept himself from blinking. "You've been in a good mood these days," he said, unable to believe the words that left him. Madara hummed. He brought the leaf to his face, looking at Hashirama through the hole in the middle.

"Did something happen?" Hashirama asked.

"No."

That was impossible. It couldn't have been nothing that left Madara pleased. Since the villagers—at least the ninjas who knew who he was—started openly avoiding Madara, the man had always remained in his foul mood. He'd stay indoors most of the time, going out when he was training, going for a mission or when Hashirama dragged him by force. Now Hashirama was being told his friend was happy for no explainable reason. He'd do whatever it was that made Madara happy because maybe, as wishful as it was, he could have both the peaceful village they'd envisioned in their youth and keep his best friend by his side.

"Lately, I don't know why, but I feel really good…" Madara mumbled and a tiny smile graced his lips.

It was a good time. If Hashirama informed him of the contents of tomorrow's meeting now when Madara was content, he wouldn't blow up in front of the council and damage his image further. It'd also give him time to sort out his thoughts.

The eye looking at him behind the leaf closed. Madara breathed in deeply, holding it in for one…two…and a half beats and exhaled. Entranced by the calm aura surrounding his friend, curiosity burned in Hashirama. The bustling sounds of kids getting picked up by their parents from the Academy went deaf to him. He ignored the call of his name.

"Well, see you tomorrow at the meeting," Madara said and waved goodbye. Hashirama stood shocked. Madara never waved to greet or motion his leave and that was what irked some of the elders on the council of the Fire Country. An ill-mannered and arrogant savage, was what they described him as. He was that happy? He'd have to find out what is was.

"Hokage-sama," a man called again, panting. He pointed in a direction, a frightful expression on him that alerted Hashirama. "By the front gates. There's a dead body of a ninja by the front gates and we suspect it's a neighbouring village's spy!"

* * *

The room was filled with inaudible breathing; a slow and undisturbed rhythm of a sleeping man. Filtered rays of morning light shone on the unmoving body nestled in covers. Madara roused and lay still, awake, but craving rest. He turned away, rolling onto his side when light hit his eyelids.

Footsteps stopped in front of his bedroom and there was a knock, the paper door rattling.

"Madara-sama, please wake up. You'll be late for the meeting." The man awaited an answer and though Madara heard him, he didn't have the energy to groan a response. Soon, footsteps padded away leaving him alone once their job of notifying the Uchiha was done. They would be a fool. A fool to intrude the clan leader's room without permission.

Rolling back onto his stomach, Madara sighed. These days he felt terribly tired. He would wake up finding his own weight a burden pressing heavily in his futon akin to a dead person. He had difficulty breathing, the breaths coming out shallow. It was becoming exhausting to open his eyes. He never wanted to wake; however, there was meeting he had to attend.

The hallway was empty with not a person in sight. Madara slid the door, shutting it quietly behind him and took a seat next to Hashirama. He could feel the stares on him, all arguments and discussion ceasing.

To his right, he saw Hashirama give a short nod and Tobirama glance at him in acknowledgement. His attention drew to the clock hanging on the wall above the door. A squeaky, grating voice shouted and Madara couldn't catch what was said until a loud bang on the table startled him.

"Are you listening?" An elder who had crease lines streak his forehead leaned forward with a scowl. He didn't respond.

"You're late. How about an apology for being late?" the old man shrieked, pushing himself off his chair and slamming his palms onto the table. Before Madara could bite back, his friend intervened.

"It's fine. We started the meeting without him anyways," Hashirama said. How he disliked it. It peeved him to no end. The way they treated Madara and jumped at every chance they had to start an argument with him.

"Bah! He's late so it's a given we'd begin without him," the councilman retorted, swinging his arm to emphasize his words. "In the first place how do we know it's no—"

"Sit down." Tobirama glared.

Unwillingly, the man settled into his seat and the meeting resumed. It was more of a discussion than anything, opinions and ideas thrown here and there. Madara's eyelids gnawed at him to close them. He was tired. His vision blurred and it took more effort every time he tried to keep them from fluttering closed. The air dried his eyes and tears stung them. It hurt and he wanted to sleep. Murmuring of different voices reached his ears, but he couldn't process them.

"Madara?" Hashirama whispered. Madara lifted his head. He was nodding off.

"I don't know why he bothered to show up if he's not paying attention," someone spat and Hashirama could not say anything to that.

"I was listening. I didn't think you higher ups needed an Uchiha's opinion."

Gritting his teeth in shame, the same man challenged, "Why don't you tell us then. What are your thoughts on the dead spy?"

Hashirama glanced over to Madara, worried he'd be humiliated in front of everyone. It was another method to get on Madara's nerves.

Dead spy?

It was wet, his hands were wet. The woman dressed in civilian clothing was floating in the stream, the currents sweeping her away. He dragged her out and stared for a while. He slapped her in the cheek several times and finally she awoke, choking and sputtering water. Frightful eyes gazed at him and he squeezed her neck. She desperately brought a hand to his wrist to stop him. She flailed, kicking about. He squeezed and squeezed, so no oxygen could enter her lungs.

Slowly, very slowly, he released his grip and yanked her forehead protector from her pocket. He'd take it and he told the woman she could leave.

"The one who was drowned?" Madara asked. The stout old man huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, who else did you think I was referring to? Unless you weren't listening of course…" He raised a brow questioning.

The woman gave a look of disbelief, frozen on the spot. She turned, leaping into the trees. He stared, twirling a kunai around his finger. She was gone from his sight. He could sense her presence nearby. She hadn't gone far with those injuries he inflicted on her and he smiled. He sent the kunai in his hand flying into the trees, leaves falling to the ground followed by a heavy thud a moment later.

Just kidding.

He dragged the woman again, shaking his head.

Spies.

And he dunked her head into the waters.

"There's nothing to say if she's dead," Madara said. "Other than the fact the Mist Village has been collecting intel on us."

How boring.

Standing to his feet, Madara left the room. There were whispers behind his back and what of it?

"Madara, wait. We haven't gotten to the important topic yet and it concerns you," Tobirama called. Madara paused. He knew without looking over his shoulders that Hashirama and Tobirama were standing.

"And what would that be?"

"The serial killings. I'm sure you know about them," Tobirama began.

"I do."

"We discussed it beforehand and the elders suggested we have the Uchiha compound moved to the edge of the village while we investigate the matter. We need your permission."

There was a long pause. The number one suspect of the homicides were the Uchiha. He understood that and what would he do about it? Enough was enough. Down with trying to gain the trust of others and who cared about control as long as his clan was safe. They could investigate all they wanted.

"Do what you want." Madara snorted.

A familiar chakra signature followed him into the corridor.

"Madara."

He didn't answer.

"Are you alright?" Hashirama asked. It wasn't exactly a question. He thought if he spoke to his friend a little more, he'd come to recognize what was unsettling him. The whole situation was unsettling. Madara left without an argument. He didn't defend his clan stubbornly as he usually would. Madara faced him looking weary, dark rings under his eyes.

"I'm fine." Even his voice sounded dead. Seeing how Hashirama wasn't convinced, Madara sighed and admitted, "I'm tired." Hashirama frowned.

"Then you're not okay," he stated.

"Listen, Hashirama. When I say I'm fine, then I am. I feel good, great even," Madara said and smiled warmly. "I dream of Izuna…"

Hashirama blinked, realization hitting him. The reason why Madara was in such a good mood lately was because of Izuna? He breathed in relief and he didn't really know why.

"Get some rest when you get home. You're on night patrol tonight." Hashirama's last thought as Madara vanished from the corridor was that his friend smelled of rain.

* * *

Gossip was spreading amongst the villagers, truth mixing in with lies. The ruling to push the Uchiha compound further away from the central area of Konoha was publicized and as expected, there was a huge uproar on the Uchiha's side. Like wildfire, vicious flames licking the barks of trees, infecting the next and the next. He could feel the unrest, the thinning patience and hate stabbing him like pine needles—it didn't matter—bending as they pricked.

He was very tired and it was as though he increasingly lacked sleep every night despite sleeping earlier and earlier. One night Madara had a dream, one without Izuna. In the dream, he or someone else was returning home after drinking out with Hashirama—he wasn't too sure—in the late evening and a drunk man stumbled across the person. He yelled, screaming profanities. He must've been an Uchiha because he was slurring on about how it was his fault that the entire village was against them.

The man's mouth moved, up, down then slightly lopsided to the right as he spoke. He was dizzy and it was funny how even in a dream he could feel the world spin and tumble. What a headache.

"Am I not worthy enough for you to even listen to me?"

Ah, annoying. It was buzzing noise as if a fly were hanging by his ear. He'd do anything to protect his clan, but this man wouldn't shut up.

Madara observed in amusement. This dream bore extreme resemblance to the reality he knew.

"Everyone's afraid of you and your power. However, know that if we could, we'd kill you and offer you to the Senju," the Uchiha said steadily, pointing a shaking finger at him.

Hilarious.

Anger grew in him and he slit the man's throat in a quick draw. Insolent fool. The blood splattered against the ground as he collapsed, grasping his neck. He wheezed, staring up in silent shock.

A chill ran through Madara. Who was the man in his dreams? Who killed his clansman? Never would he murder his kin. They could despise him, shun him and he would never lay a finger on them.

"How dare you betray our clan," the offender hissed. "We fought to protect you." He crouched to face the sobering man on the ground, blood trickling behind his hand. He tore the arm from the man's neck and slit deep into his wrist.

"We fought to avenge you, sought out the best options for you," he continued and Madara winced at the piercing scream of agony.

He jammed the kunai into the man's guts and twisted, whispering into his ear, "And this is how you repay us?"

The dream stopped there and Madara started into consciousness. It was cold, but his hands were warm. Rain thundered outside and it was dark. He shivered. His fingers thread into his hair and he waited for the remnants of the disturbing dream to subside.

He was sent on a three-day mission by Hashirama and completed it in two. Madara hadn't gotten rusty, still fighting as if he were dancing. He preferred combat to patrolling the village so he was thrilled when his friend assigned him a mission that required fighting.

When Madara arrived at the entrance gates of the village, Tobirama was standing in the middle with a solemn expression. They decided to chat over late night snacks and drinks.

"How are you?" Tobirama asked as he set his sake cup down. Madara didn't believe in pleasantries with the man.

"What do you want?" he said sharply. He could see the other chew his tongue to maintain his appearance to seem civil. Tobirama exhaled, licking his lips nervously and turned to him.

"I'll be direct with you, Madara. During the time you've been out on a mission, we've determined that the serial killer is someone from your clan."

"…I see," Madara mumbled and took a sip of his sake.

"You might think I'm being biased, but I'm not. I'm well aware of Brother's intentions of balancing the power between the Uchiha and the Senju—"

"No." Madara gazed at him hard.

He was looking _at_ him.

"Equality is impossible to attain and unlike your idiot of a brother, you should know that by now," Madara said. Tobirama's jaw clenched and his brows drew together.

"I only do what's best for the village," he responded. Madara watched as Tobirama swayed and fall off his stool. He assured the street stall owner he'd bring his friend home safely and paid before helping Tobirama up.

The man had troubles uttering a coherent sentence and nodded. It was freaky to see the Uchiha smile. He'd never seen Madara smile that sweetly and maybe the rumours about him were wrong.

Once they got indoors, up the stairs and through a door, Madara crumbled to the floor. Perhaps he was more worn out than he'd initially thought.

* * *

There he was again. He'd been meeting Izuna in his dreams every night like this.

"Izuna…" Madara whispered. He reached his hands out into the space in front of him or at least he thought, he couldn't tell the direction when it was pitch black. His hands floated aimlessly, catching nothing until there was a light sensation on his fingertips. Madara leaned forward to reel in the thread he knew would lead him to his baby brother.

"Nii-san." A muddled voice echoed faintly. Softness then a loose grasp around his wrist pulled him. The warm hand slid down to turn Madara's palm face up. He let his hand be guided and soon, he felt it land on something soft. He caressed it and smiled.

"Izuna," he called. The cheek he was caressing lifted slightly.

"I'm here, nii-san," the voice comforted. Arms enveloped Madara, pulling him into a tight embrace. His little brother's chin rested on top of his head.

"I'll always protect you, don't worry…"

He laughed. "I should be the one protecting you as your older brother…But I—" Izuna shushed him.

"It's okay."

His fingers stopped at the edge of a cloth. Madara curiously peeled it off. "What is this?" he asked.

"My bandages," Izuna answered in a gentle tone. He helped Madara unwrap the bandages. Their foreheads pressed together and Madara revelled in the warmth that flooded into him.

"Open your eyes, nii-san." Izuna chuckled, cupping his brother's face. Madara did. He opened his eyes carefully and cautiously, afraid that Izuna would disappear. When nothing happened, he looked up.

And stilled.

"…Izu..na?" He breathed. He shook. His whole body trembled, inside out. He choked.

"Yes?"

"Where are your eyes?" Madara managed to convey through chattering teeth. He wasn't chattering though because his teeth weren't making any sounds. "Where…"

Black, very dark and deep empty sockets stared back at him. There was depth and he could tell, there was nothing in there. Hollow. So close to him so very close that he couldn't breathe.

"Did you forget?" Izuna giggled and led his hands. He took Madara's fingers, trailing up, creeping up his face. They skittered along the ridge, just before the holes near his nose. Izuna used his brother's fingers to dip in. Madara's finger was swallowed.

"What are you doing. Izuna?…Izuna?"

His finger travelled deeper into Izuna's sockets, where it didn't belong. He tugged at his arm, attempting to get his finger away. But his brother's grip didn't budge.

"Silly, you have my eyes, remember?"

And his finger went deeper.

Squelch.

Madara recoiled his hand with as much force as he could and squeezed his eyes shut. The sensation on his fingers, the sensation of something squishy, he didn't want to know what it was. What was in Izuna's head.

"Ouch, that hurt…" Izuna whimpered and Madara saw him covering his eye…sockets. Blood was dripping.

"S-sorry. Are you okay?" His hands stayed clenched by his side. Izuna moaned in pain and he grew concerned that he had damaged his brother's…loose nerves or brain. He tentatively reached an arm out, stomach churning. A hand shot out and grabbed him.

"Just kidding!" Izuna beamed and his other hand raised in the air as if it were a peek-a-boo game. Madara growled.

"Stop it, Izuna. You're acting strange…What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, nii-san. Leave it to me, okay?" Izuna whispered, his breath raising goosebumps on Madara's skin. It was like Izuna was alive and breathing.

"What are you talking about?" Madara asked, yawning mid-sentence.

"I'll protect you…I'll keep you safe." Izuna wrapped his arms around his brother protectively, glaring at something far off in the distance. His brother's pale arms surrounding him glowed a bright white.

He was confused. His dreams were always of him and his family, happily spending time together. Izuna was there too. This time, Izuna was rambling on about things Madara didn't understand. He was doing things that didn't make sense. He was falling asleep and it didn't make sense to fall asleep when he was already sleeping. He needed clarification from Izuna and what he meant. He tried to grasp at straws to stay awake but…

But he felt really good.

Izuna placed his hands over Madara's eyes.

He slumped against his brother and closed them.

* * *

His head drummed and his vision was hazy. When he moved, his limbs were numb as rocks and limp as noodles. With bleary eyes, Tobirama squinted to survey his surroundings. There was someone sitting on the desk and he recognized the room to be the Hokage's office. Who was that?

"You're awake."

"Who are you?" Tobirama said calmly. "If you turn yourself in now, you'll get off lightly."

A chuckle echoed in the lonely room. He saw the person's head throw back in uncontrollable laughter. The man, most likely, stepped forward.

"Madara?"

Twirling a kunai around his finger, Madara whistled. "Hello there, Tobirama."

"What is the meaning of this?" Tobirama hissed, struggling to move his body and attack the man. He received a blank gaze. He inhaled. To be honest, there was no point in reasoning with Madara, but for his brother…he'd try.

"You're the culprit? You were the one behind the slaughter?" Tobirama leaned forward, tilting his head in an attempt to goad the man.

"Slaughter is a strong word." Madara sighed and paced back to the desk.

"Admit to the killings, Madara and redeem yourself. That's what Brother would want," Tobirama said.

Another laugh erupted. "You say the funniest things. But…" Madara's eyes gleamed in red. "Speaking of redemption? Someone's becoming arrogant."

Tobirama was expecting redemption from the Uchiha? What did they do wrong? What different were the other clans, what different were the Senju?

"Should you be the one to say that?" Tobirama spat and his hair was roughly grabbed.

"I should have never let the peace treaty happen. If I were there…it would've never happened," Madara whispered. He flicked his wrist and Tobirama slammed into the wall. Tobirama groaned from the impact, unable to reposition himself.

"That's right," Madara started, striding towards him. He crouched down looking into Tobirama's eyes. "I've called your brother here."

How would the man like it, to see his dear brother killed before him…by his hands. The wide smirk blooming on Madara's face stunned Tobirama. All of a sudden Madara glanced over at the window.

"It's raining, huh…" The sound of the rain dripped, dropped, sliding down the glass. The clouds obstructed the moonlight, water pouring as if the skies were crying.

As Madara face drew closer and closer, a kunai in his hand drawing closer and closer to his neck, he saw it. The Sharingan swirling and taking on another form.

"Shall I torture you with the Tsukuyomi while we wait for your brother?" Madara asked, smiling eerily. The metal made contact with Tobirama's skin and he shivered at the coldness. He felt it then, the ice touch of the back of Madara's hand. The unnatural temperature.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

He knew this person. He knew him very well.

"Who the fuck are you."

The pattern in his eyes were not Madara's.

One last giggle.

"You know my name. It's Madara."

"No, it's not. Who. Who are you?"

"I think I like you dead, Tobirama," he said.


	2. Today I

**A/N** : Actually wrote this on Wednesday ahaha. There's nothing much for me to say and I think it's obvious who the stranger is. Also, I can't decide if I want to make a future short implied/vague sexual incest or just depict it as an unhealthy incestuous relationship (non-sexual). Any thoughts?

 **Pairing** : None

 **Summary** : What is there to think about when you're on the roof of a building?

 **Warning/tags** : contemplating suicide

* * *

He takes in the night scenery before him. Something spurred Naruto to come here tonight. He reflects on his life as he stands on the edge of a building. It's maybe 3am and dark outside. The winds are ice cold. He switches between sitting, standing, and lying on his stomach along the concrete edge observing the city below. There are the silhouettes of skyscrapers, buildings, the mountain he remembers visiting every year with his parents and if he looks down to sea level, there are numerous of houses lined neatly where people are sleeping.

When he tires of just staring straight and glances to his left, Naruto catches a glimpse of a shadow moving. He's surprised he didn't notice before. He thought it was a rusting pole that used to hold up the fence (it's broken now) surrounding the rooftop. But it's a person.

He takes in the dark form curiously then pulls his knees to his chest to continue with his own thoughts while he watches the city again.

Naruto has a good family: a loving mom and a worrying dad. There's the school teacher that cares for him like an uncle and a perverted godfather who is also his dad's teacher—or at least was. He has friends at school who talk to him and joke around, though, he's only close with this one girl he's known since he was young. There's nothing more Naruto wants in life and he's content.

Nothing is particularly wrong.

In spite of this, something, the very same something that's brought him to the top of an abandoned building, is unsettling him.

Standing, he shuffles to the edge as much as he can without losing balance and looks straight down. It's high. The height is dizzying enough for him to sense fear, yet not enough for him to panic. It will probably be over in a snap of his fingers. He can imagine the disgusting splat he'll make on the ground. And for an abandoned area, it's kept clean by the public workers.

The sound of rustling clothes makes him turn to his left. The person's head lifts as if knowing Naruto is looking at them. He can hardly see the other's face and almost forgets they existed. The sky begins to brighten and he realizes dawn has arrived. His eyes don't leave the stranger's figure and slowly, the sky brightens slightly more to reveal a boy around his age with gravity-defying black hair.

When the boy gazes back at him, his drooping eyes widen a little. He faintly sees the same reaction from the other. They stare.

"It's a nice view," Naruto says.

The stranger blinks before responding, "It is."

He glances back to the road below him and suspects the other does the same. Naruto steps off the edge and walks to the rusted metal door, watching the boy do the same. He pauses, a prickling sensation in his nose and sneezes. He shivers suddenly feeling cold. He hears a chuckle beside him.

"After you," the stranger says, mouth curved just a tiny bit. It's a great expression, Naruto thinks. He's glad this person he doesn't know anything about will be fine—at least for another day. He sniffs.

"Thanks," Naruto croaks and smiles. Their footsteps echo in the stairwell and they stay silent. The next moment they are outside of the building and each exhale in a puff of white condensation, watching it vanish in the air.

The boy looks at Naruto one last time, his eyes relaying what cannot be put into words and waves a goodbye. Naruto smiles again, returning the wave and takes his time going home.


	3. Passing By

**A/N** : I should be doing my homework, packing for Las Vegas, studying for my exam and starting my paper but here I am writing for 3 hours without giving a thought to the plot. Shorts are fun and easier to do than series, I like that.

Guest: It was intended to be Sasuke yeah, but it could be anyone you want with black hair haha. I noticed that too and thought well, Sasuke's back hair sticking horizontally counts as gravity defying if he doesn't use wax. I like Madara quite a lot too.

 **Pairing** : unfulfilled Sasuke/Naruto, official Sasuke/Sakura and Naruto/Hinata

 **Summary** : Sometimes expectations are difficult to deal with.

 **Warning/tags** : slash

* * *

The war ended and though everyone was busy repairing their destroyed villages and healing their wounds, they were happy. Naruto was hailed as the hero who saved the world and his dream had been fulfilled: his position as a future Hokage was set in stone, meaning he was now acknowledged by the entire village. No one had issues with it and his friends congratulated him. Sometimes they would tease Naruto about it, that if he slacked off, the offer would be revoked.

On the other hand, Sasuke was left to roam aimlessly around Konoha's streets. He didn't have a clear idea of what he wanted to do and where he would go from here onwards. He visited the places he'd been to while he lived in the village, thinking of what they meant to him.

Sasuke thought about the promise he made with Naruto.

It meant something.

* * *

They awoke in the hospital, lying on the bed sore and numb. Once they turned their heads and locked eyes—it wasn't a surprise, they could feel each other's presence in the room—they started to smile. Then they laughed as much as their battered bodies allowed without knowing why.

"Your eye looks terrible," Sasuke said.

"Well, thank you. Some nice guy punched me and now it's all swollen as you can see," Naruto retorted roughly and snorted.

"I think he did a nice job."

He resisted the urge to laugh and said, "Yeah? You don't look any better, bastard. You look like a mummy." They stayed silent for awhile, just staring and trying to find the words to say.

"So…" Naruto started nervously. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," Sasuke answered. There was no goal to live for anymore, there was no place he could settle, there was no family for him to return to and there was no point in dying. "I don't have anything."

"You do," Naruto said quietly. The gaze on him was…perplexing. He didn't see hope in the eyes nor did he see despair.

"What do I have?" Sasuke asked slowly, voice heavily hanging onto each word. It must've been a pointless answer because Naruto opened his mouth, closing it slightly before opening it again as if he knew it were true as well.

It was for a millisecond that Sasuke caught it. The gleam in Naruto's azure irises that made his breath still in his chest. The way he was being looked at, being the one who was given such an honest gaze. No one looked at him like that.

"You have me." Naruto smiled.

His eyes widened, stunned. What did that mean? Nothing was ever straightforward when it came down to Naruto.

The white sheet rustled and he watched Naruto move to stretch his arm out towards him. It was stumped and wrapped in bandages. They both stared at his right arm. Naruto chuckled and Sasuke let out a huff. He reached out his left arm. If it were it's original length, their fists would've bumped.

"Hey promise me." Naruto understood by then. The other had no reason to stay in the village.

"What is it?"

"When I become Hokage, you'll help me with Konoha."

"You're fully capable yourself."

"I can't run it alone."

They stared and stared, carefully observing if there were any doubts and hesitation. Sasuke closed his eyes. He could almost hear the please at the end of the sentence.

* * *

He was noticing it more the coming days. Sasuke would disappear for hours and return to their shared hospital room. Naruto didn't ask where he went or what he did in that time.

Eventually, the two of them were discharged and they headed to Ichiraku's for ramen. There wasn't an awkward silence between them as they ate. The small gestures of contentment were enough to fill any gaps.

Their friends didn't jump on them and noisily bug them about celebrating their discharge. Naruto suspected they knew him and Sasuke needed to be alone. To catch up on the years they missed.

* * *

When Sasuke was going to leave on his journey, Naruto was there at the gates to see him off. He bid his farewell to Sakura beforehand.

"You're really going," Naruto said rather than asked.

"Yeah. I'll be back."

Tilting his head to the side, Naruto smirked. "You better. Or else I'll have to chase your ass and drag you back again."

Sasuke shook his head in fondness and responded, "A candidate Hokage shouldn't be going out of the village so carelessly, usuratonkachi."

Naruto flashed a grin.

* * *

When Sasuke returned a year later, Naruto missed him. He was too busy getting lectured about the duties of a Hokage by Kakashi and wasn't notified of his friend's return until Sasuke was gone. He heard it from Sakura. She had a brush of pink on her cheeks as she spoke of Sasuke and it seemed like she was acting shy.

Sakura was a nice girl, Sasuke thought. Maybe he didn't care as much as he should. He told her to wait for him a little longer and she agreed with a shocked but ecstatic expression. She deserved that much for putting up with him for all those years. Sasuke had given her the cold shoulder, had tried to kill her twice and she still forgave him—still loved him.

It unnerved him that Kakashi would push him, use the guilt card against him in order to make Sakura happy. He cared for the teammate, but he couldn't like her the way she wanted. Sasuke would marry her though, as an atonement. At the same time, he didn't feel like he did her any wrong.

* * *

When Sakura squealed and hugged him, Naruto was confused. She whispered in between sobs, tears of joy leaking out of her eyes that her and Sasuke were going to marry.

"Congratulations, Sakura-chan!" Naruto yelled and hugged her back. It was an automatic phrase that slipped past his tongue. He didn't know what else to say other than the mundane stuff their friends and peers had already said.

It didn't hurt. It somewhat stung.

Why wasn't Sasuke the one to let him know first?

As he paced back and forth in his shabby apartment, restless, his eyes caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Naruto pulled at the blond piece of hair reaching below his chin. He recalled Sasuke comparing his and his dad's hairstyle and that his dad's looked better. He couldn't remember why he started growing it out and decided to cut it off.

* * *

It was around that time Hinata was kidnapped that Naruto started feeling it—the pressure. The pressure to save her not because she was a fellow villager and friend, but because only _he_ could save her. It didn't make any sense as to why everyone was spouting the same nonsense. Yes, he'd save his friend. So could Shino, Kiba, Ino, Shikamaru, and Sakura.

The more they said it the more Naruto believed it was true. Hinata loved him and he loved her back. He probably had since they met as children and he hadn't realize what the feeling was until now.

Everything went by in a blur. He argued with Sakura, fought the bad guys, saved Hinata and kissed her. Amongst all the murmuring and cheers, Naruto was only paying attention to that one detail about his friend. Sasuke just waltzed into Konoha, saving the village and then waltzed away. He smirked to himself. Sasuke was going to keep his promise.

A Hokage wouldn't be needed if there wasn't a village.

* * *

When it was known Sakura was pregnant with Sasuke's child, their friends gushed and teased her endlessly. They asked her questions like how it happened, when did Sasuke swing by to have sex, what was the child's name going to be, was it a girl or boy, and of course the important questions: Was Sasuke big? Was he good in bed?

It stung again. Naruto felt like Sasuke was becoming further and distant from him. His friend was going to start a family and everyone was pouring their attention on the couple. Sasuke was _his_ friend. But then again, Sakura was Sasuke's _wife_ and that probably mattered more.

He dropped by Sakura's home, welcomed by her giggling mother and proud father. Sakura was on a chair, stroking her flat stomach with a tender look.

It stung. The whole situation unsettled Naruto and he thought it was because they were growing up too quickly.

However, the moment his hand touched Sakura's stomach, he jumped. It was scary. Inside Sakura was Sasuke's child.

Sasuke's.

It was unbelievable, inconceivable and incomprehensible. The thought, the notion, the fact that his two friends were going to start a family together—leaving him out of their circle—crashed into him like ice winds and it opened his eyes.

They thought he was acting strange and grumpy because he was jealous. Maybe Naruto was jealous.

They said it was because he was unconsciously yearning to have a family of his own and he started to think that was true.

* * *

When Sasuke received an invitation to Naruto's wedding, he was camping out in the forests in the middle of his travels. He stared at the fancily decorated card in his hands, his brows drawing together into a frown before tossing it into the fire. He watched as the edges curled, turning black and disappearing into nothing.

So Naruto was getting married to Hinata. Who would've thought?

He chewed the inside of his cheek in a spike of irritation. Sasuke got up and retired for the night, sleeping against a tree.

* * *

One night, Naruto was returning home from the paperwork and official meetings he had to go through as the final procedure before he was appointed as the Seventh Hokage. He flicked the light switch on in his room—his and Hinata's room—and was greeted by Hinata sitting on their bed in a lavender chiffon nightgown. He could see through the thin material.

"Naruto…" she whispered and smiled shyly at him.

* * *

When Sasuke and Naruto met again after several years, they halted in their steps. Naruto had been waiting by the village's gates for his arrival.

"Hey, long time no see," Naruto said and waved. Sasuke simply nodded and returned the obligatory words.

They walked side by side into the village, Sasuke telling stories about things he came across in his travels and Naruto rambling on about how much paperwork he didn't expect to do. Their legs carried them to Ichiraku's Ramen without any verbal confirmation as to where they were going.

"Welcome back," Naruto said, pausing in his meal. Sasuke didn't turn.

"Yeah…"

The slurping noises of the noodles and soup occupied them—distracted them. Naruto finished his ramen and together, they began to stroll around the neighbourhood again.

Somehow they ended up at the top of the Hokage Mountain and all of a sudden Naruto turned to face Sasuke, a cool breeze blowing.

They didn't need to say anything and they understood. They've fought, chased, yelled, suffered together—because of the other.

Sasuke closed the space between them step by step and Naruto raised his arms from his sides. Their eyes spoke volumes for them, the longing and sadness clouding over. Sasuke took the last step and their bodies pressed together. His hands pushed the back of Naruto's head into his shoulder and Naruto wrapped his arms tightly around Sasuke's waist.

"Sorry."

There was regret, pain and eternal longing.

There was another choked sob and they didn't know which one of them it was, but it was the same.

"You'll be fine."


	4. I Should've Realized It

**A/N** : Time to wake up early tomorrow for the flight. Yay in Las Vegas doing homework and studying at night. Wrote this in half an hour maybe? Poetry was never my forte, actually writing in general haha. This was supposed to be this cool slam poetry-like poem. I need to stop writing these shorts and concentrate on school, but it's hard to.

Guest: Guest, baby, I'm sorry there was no Madara in the previous chapter and this one (sort of depending whose pov it is). I only have a couple of ideas with shorts focusing on him. If you have ideas of what you might want to read, I might do them in the near future :)

 **Pairing** : None

 **Summary** : Someone reflects on the series of events leading up to now.

 **Warning/tags** : poem

* * *

Lying down on the floor  
I'm thinking about you, thinking about the past  
We were so innocent, young children with big dreams  
It wasn't easy and it was a long journey  
But now we're here after trekking this far  
After the battles we've had, all the time we wasted against each other  
Now we're at a standstill

If I'd taken a closer look at you and stared into your eyes  
Then I could've  
I should've realized it  
But I was blind with rage, simmering inside  
Betrayal and despair  
One loss piling on top of another  
Like a heap of something unneeded  
I'm sick of it

Pretty words pass your lips  
Before I believed in them because you were so bright  
But soon I discovered it held no weight  
When I asked you, you had no answer  
You were like me

Fighting was how we bared the truth  
Respect and pride brimming to the edge  
A flowing river obstructed our path  
I can't turn back and I can't go forward  
It burned and I didn't know what to do about it

Lying down on the floor  
I'm thinking about myself, thinking about the present  
We're grown up, experience showing as scars  
It was hard and it was long journey

I can look into your eyes now, stare at you  
And I could've known  
I should've realized it  
You were the answer and you were the truth  
You are my dream and you are my future  
Maybe it's time for me  
To take your hand


	5. Blur

**A/N** : Next few chapters will be Uchihacest because the idea got longer than I thought it would. Wish there were more stories of these guys, I'm butchering them bad.

Guest: With all due respect sir or madam, drabbles, shorts and even one sentences are stories. However, you are free to report me. I've read the rules and who knows, I may have missed something.

 **Pairing** : Hard to say, none are romantic

 **Summary** : Hashirama says it's puberty that's making him feel weird, but Madara's not entirely convinced.

 **Warning/tags** : incest, signs of sexual abuse, AU, inaccurate portrayal of abuse

* * *

Footsteps thumped across the hallway early one afternoon in the Uchiha household. A young boy awoke to the sound of murmuring in the kitchen and he got up. He saw his older brother on the chair already eating in a hurry, taking large spoonfuls of rice at a time and stuffing it down his throat even when his mouth was full.

"Good morning, nii-san," he greeted, rubbing his bleary eyes. Madara turned as he chewed, pieces of food dropping onto the table.

"Good morning, Izuna," he said. He zoomed to dump the dishes into the sink and was nearly out the front door when their mother pulled Madara's collar.

"Not so fast. Where's my goodbye kiss?" she asked while Madara struggled to get his sandals on, giddy as he was. Izuna stepped beside her, yawning.

"Are you going somewhere, nii-san?"

"Sorry, I forgot mom," Madara replied and pecked his mother on the cheek. He glanced over to Izuna and did the same. "Yeah, I'm going to meet up with a friend."

The door closed with a loud bang and she shook her head, sighing. It seemed these days her eldest son kept forgetting his manners. Was Madara in his rebellious stage? A tug on her sleeve reminded her of Izuna's presence.

"I'm hungry…" The eight year old whined and she smiled. She held Izuna's hand and led him into the kitchen.

"Sit down and I'll make you something to eat." Izuna got onto a chair and happily swung his legs in the air.

"Sunny side up eggs please," he chirped and his mother smiled sweetly at her youngest son. Izuna was her precious baby and she would do anything to protect him. She cracked the eggs into the pan and frowned as they sizzled. Sometimes she would find herself wishing that Madara was…She shook the thought off.

* * *

By the time Madara arrived at the river, Hashirama was there sitting on a rock with his chin resting in his palm.

"Hey, Hashirama," he said and waved once his friend lifted his head.

"Madara!" Hashirama beamed. "You're late," he said, watching Madara plop down onto the bed of pebbles beside him.

He chuckled and leaned back, his arms supporting behind. "I know, I know."

The initial excitement of meeting his friend as he ran here from home died the instant he saw Hashirama's face. Suddenly, he didn't want to fight. Madara took a stone in his hand and threw it into the waters. He didn't say a word and carried on tossing rocks into the river, as if he enjoyed listening to the sound of it dropping into the water.

Noticing his friend mildly distracted, Hashirama decided to ask about it before they got into their regular spar sessions or contests. He smoothed a thumb over the surface of the rock he was seated on.

"Is everything okay?" Hashirama asked and Madara hummed in response. "Was the mission that difficult?"

"Of course not!" Madara retorted. No assassination assigned to him was ever difficult. He was good at what he did and he took pride in that. As the successor of the clan, it was expected. To think Hashirama would doubt his skills was offensive.

The Uchiha clan was one of the strongest clans in Konoha, next to the Senju. Though they were allies living in the same village, they were rivals and the clan leaders hated each other.

"Well I'm sorry I was worried then. After all, I'm just a nosy kid sticking in other people's business…" Hashirama looked down, bringing his knees to his chest and began drawing circles with his finger.

"I didn't say that. Stop getting depressed," Madara snapped. That made Hashirama gloom more.

"See, you're mad," Hashirama muttered.

"I'm not," Madara yelled and groaned. Hashirama watched as his friend messed his hair in frustration.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. He reached a hand to lay on Madara's shoulder, encouraging him to look at him. Madara's eyes darted around as if hesitant to speak his mind.

"Madara."

At his pressing tone, Madara chewed the inside of his mouth, finally ready to open up.

"You won't laugh?"

Hashirama's gaze on him narrowed. "Never."

Taking a deep breath, Madara's shoulders relaxed and he thought of where to start. Should he start from the beginning or get to the point? He could feel Hashirama's eagerness to know what was troubling him and wanted to laugh because it wasn't that much of a deal.

"You see, uh. We're thirteen already and…don't kiss…" Madara mumbled. He received a quirked eyebrow. Hashirama looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"What?" It came out as a half snort. He couldn't believe his ears. Maybe he didn't hear correctly. "What did you say? I couldn't catch the last part."

Madara twitched in irritation, face a little pink. "I'm not saying it again," he spat and turned away. Hashirama chuckled at his friend's embarrassment and elbowed him.

"Don't be like that Madara. I heard you properly, I was just teasing," Hashirama said. With a huff, Madara reluctantly turned back only to see his friend covering his grin behind a hand. Warmth rushed to his cheeks.

"You said you weren't going to laugh." He got to his feet to shake Hashirama by the collar. Now that he was caught, Hashirama couldn't hold in his bark of laughter from spilling. He heard Madara growl and he was dropped to the ground. He fell on his ass and wiped a tear.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. I didn't think you'd be the type to worry about those kind of things," Hashirama said. He didn't get a response and continued softly, "I think it's normal to kiss your family."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Madara grumbled. He scrunched his face in concentration, trying to discern what exactly was bothering him about family kisses. "It feels weird, you know, to kiss them on the lips," he said, rubbing absently at his bottom lip. Hashirama shrugged.

"I used to do it with my parents too, but not anymore. My father gave me the talk a couple months ago and maybe it's puberty that's making you feel weird about it." Hashirama squinted his eyes and wiggled his fingers at his friend attempting to be spooky.

"Hah!" Madara let out a breath of pent up anxiety. So that's what this was? He was growing into an adult and this was simply a fleeting sense of uneasiness he had to go through. "I guess there's nothing to worry about," he said and fell onto his back, arms stretched to support his head against the rocks he was lying on. Madara rolled on his side, sighing in relief.

Wordlessly and curiously, Hashirama stared at his friend's back.

* * *

Noises of children giggling and bicycle ringing down the streets flooded into Madara's ears as he sat on the porch. He was dressed in a navy yukata, fanning himself with a bamboo fan marked in the Uchiha clan symbol. He could hear the keys jingle and the door creak, signalling his mother and Izuna were home.

"Nii-san, we're back," Izuna sang, trotting into the living room. He rummaged the bag for something and pulled out a popsicle, handing it to his brother.

"Welcome home and thanks." Madara took the popsicle and unwrapped it. The flavoured ice was bliss, sweet and cool. He eyed his mother who sat beside him. Izuna flopped his head onto his lap and looked at him.

"Nii-san, will you help with my training tomorrow?" Izuna asked. His brother was always endearing like this, wanting to spend time with Madara. He couldn't deny Izuna's request.

"Okay." Izuna brightened immediately and began to cheer. He glanced at his mother to share his joy and she smiled. Madara ruffled his brother's hair, palm gliding to cup Izuna's chubby cheek.

"Why don't you go pack for tomorrow now?" Madara suggested. He leaned in and kissed the other's forehead gently. Izuna made a strange noise and he looked to see him pouting. He snickered, the expression was too cute to be called annoyed.

Sitting up, Izuna stared intently into Madara's eyes and said, "I'm not a kid anymore." The deep and dark gaze boring into him made Madara anxious. Clearly Izuna was upset and he didn't know why. His mother gestured to her forehead, tapping a finger there.

"Sorry, Izuna, I won't do that anymore if you don't like it," Madara said and Izuna shook his head. It wasn't that he hated it, it was the opposite. More, he wanted more from the older brother he admired and respected—like the way his mother would shower him in affection. Did his brother not like him? Izuna brought his mouth to press against Madara's and Madara accepted it. As he was about to break the contact, a swipe of wetness brushed his lip. He stilled.

"Izuna?" he uttered, his younger sibling lapping his mouth. When he felt the tongue dip inside to lick some more, Madara firmly pushed Izuna back by the shoulders. "That's enough, go to your room and pack."

Before Izuna could protest, their mother spoke, "Do as your brother says, Izuna. We know you'll take long to pack and it's better to do it earlier in case you forget tomorrow morning."

The stomping grew softer and softer. The two were left alone and silence blanketed between them. When was it? When was it that Madara started to feel awkward being around his mother?

"What are you doing to Izuna?" he asked and his mother twitched.

She turned and said, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Of course she knew what he was referring to. His mother exhaled and pulled Madara into an embrace.

"You'll get used to it," she murmured. She ran her fingers through her son's hair, knots tangling in them.

"Why do you do it?" His voice was muffled by his mother's shirt. Why did she touch Izuna like that?

"Because I love you and Izuna," she answered. Madara froze and a hand was brought to his bottom lip, it was becoming a habit lately. The tingling he felt every time his family would kiss him was normal because it was love? He didn't know how to explain it, but every time someone's lips touched his, it would feel strangely intimate, too close even for family members. Maybe it was that puberty thing Hashirama was talking about.

* * *

Another flash of lightning flickered the room blue and a roar of thunder followed. The pouring was loud and it was hard to fall asleep. Madara's door opened, revealing Izuna clutching a pillow. He stayed by the door, toes digging into the floor.

"Nii-san, c-can I sleep with you tonight?" Izuna asked timidly. Madara lifted his blanket and smiled. Taking that as permission, Izuna dove under the covers and snuggled against his brother. Madara draped an arm over him.

"Sh…" he hushed as thunder boomed again. He stroked Izuna's back, hoping that it would calm him. It worked and his brother's trembling ceased. Soon, light snores filled the room and he realized Izuna was asleep. Madara nuzzled the other's fluffy hair, brows drawn together.

The way his mother's hands would linger on Izuna's skin longer than necessary when she bathed with him was worrying Madara. Izuna was old enough to do it himself. He was aware of how Izuna and his mother were always touchy feely, though he guessed it could pass off as a mother complex or an unusual strong attachment to their mother. But then the times his mother would plant kisses along Izuna's neck or behind his ear and the times where Izuna would reciprocate was troubling.

Similarly to other Uchiha families, they were close knit so affectionate touching wasn't out of the ordinary. Madara supposed if Izuna wasn't hurt, it was okay. He was thinking too much, he decided.

* * *

However, one day after his kunai practice, he passed by his parents' room and the sight numbed him. Through the slit of the barely opened door, Izuna was in their mother's lap, sucking her neck.

"Good boy, Izuna," she cooed. Madara couldn't move from his spot, his legs about to give on him. What is going on, what are they doing, why is Izuna doing that to their mother and why is their mother telling him he's a good boy for doing that, numerous questions plagued him.

He gasped as their mother took Izuna's lips in her teeth and darted a tongue inside his little brother's mouth. The sounds were proof that it was real, the wetness, the saliva drooling out of the corner of their mouths. Izuna was moving his lips against her's.

This wasn't what children did with their parents was it? Madara had yet to witness Hashirama or anyone that wasn't an Uchiha do that with their parents. As weird as it was peeping on his mother and brother kissing like lovers, he wasn't repulsed. Neither of them were hurting the other. It occurred to him that the odd behaviour might be a clan tradition of some sort.

"What are you doing standing there?"

Instantly, Madara stiffened. Inside he was shaking and he could hear it like an earthquake in his ears, but outside, he kept a calm front. When he tried to respond, he couldn't. His teeth were clenched and wouldn't separate to let him open his mouth. His father strode over to, curious why he was planted on the spot.

"Oh," was his father's reaction to the sight. He chuckled. "Your mother's very quick when it comes to things she wants," he said. Tajima laid a hand on Madara's shoulder, bending down. The urge to pry away his father's grip was almost acted upon and Madara had to restrain himself. His father rarely initiated physical contact with him; even during assassin training it was rare. It was no wonder he was taken off guard by the action.

"Are you jealous of your brother?" Tajima whispered. The breath on his ear sent a shiver skittering down Madara's spine. Slowly, he shook his head. There was no reason for him to be jealous of his younger brother, especially not in this situation. It was only recently that he'd grown distant with their mother and he could go as far as to say he'd come to dislike her. Why, he didn't know, he just knew he didn't like her like he had a year ago. For sticking so closely to Izuna maybe, stealing his brother from him, looking at Izuna the way she did or everything she did made Madara's chest twist in discomfort.

Sighing, Tajima grabbed his eldest son's arm and tugged. "Come, I'll teach you what you need to know," he said.


	6. Another Path

**A/N** : I lied, the next chapter will be the continuation of the Uchihacest. The chapter title will be appropriately labelled so you'll know it's the same story. This chapter is why I don't write action scenes or emotional ones...Did this on a whim, writing for a few hours.

Guest: Hi, do you mean a three-way relationship and then Narukonan, NaruDei separately? I'm not too good with sex scenes if that's you were hoping, but give me some time to figure out a plot that would make sense.

 **Pairing** : None

 **Summary:** Three scenarios in which things could have gone differently at different points of Sasuke's life pre-shippuuden.

 **Warning/tags** : what if AU

* * *

They had offered him power, offered it on a silver plate in exchange for his body. Of course Sasuke had no intention of giving up his vengeance. He'd squeeze every last drop he could get from the snake and kill him when there was nothing more he could learn. That was his plan. He looked up to see Naruto before him.

"Where are you going, Sasuke?"

"Out," he answered.

"That's not what I meant. You were planning on leaving Konoha weren't you?"

He matched the narrowed gaze Naruto gave him. "If that's the case, what're you going to do about it?" he taunted.

"Stop you," Naruto stated. His shoulders slumped and in a quieter voice said, "Don't go, Sasuke."

Fists balled by Sasuke's side. He wasn't going to change his mind. Not even if the dobe begged him, no. He wasn't going to bend to anyone's will. What softened him in the first place was Naruto so this time, he'll force his way through. Despite his thoughts, Sasuke glanced aside—a sign of weakness.

"Move," he demanded.

"No." Naruto stepped closer to him and he stood unmoving. "I don't really get why you need to leave the village, to be honest."

"For power, what else?" Sasuke scoffed. A document was shoved in his face.

"It's from Kakashi-sensei," Naruto said. Sasuke quirked a brow, clicking his tongue and snatched the papers. Naruto silently stared at him as he read, fidgeting. He didn't know what he just handed Sasuke, but Kakashi-sensei promised him everything would be alright if he gave it. He heard Sasuke growl and put a hand out.

"What?"

"Pen. Give me the pen," Sasuke snapped. Naruto jumped and pat his pockets. He pulled out the pen Kakashi-sensei told him to keep on him. Sasuke moved towards the bench, crouching down and wrote something on the papers. He shoved the document into Naruto's chest and grumbled.

"See you."

Fucking Kakashi, Sasuke thought. After the small pep talk Kakashi gave him, he was certain the older man wouldn't expect him to up and leave. It was cunning of him to do that: make Sasuke sign the papers saying he accepted a S-rank mission. Well it didn't matter anyways. If he was allowed to freely waltz out the gates of Konoha to gain more power and have the hunter ninjas off his tail, it was worth it. It was one less thing to be bothered about.

Leaking intel on Orochimaru and informing the village of his movements? Why not? He would become more powerful having two sources to fall back on. The final line of the document in fine print convinced Sasuke.

 _In the case that Orochimaru is subjugated or killed, Uchiha Sasuke may be formally allowed back into the shinobi ranks. He is granted permission to continue his education as a Genin ninja under Jounin instructor Hatake Kakashi and granted access to special ranked missions for his accomplishments._

* * *

Sasuke grit his teeth and struggled to stand, fingers digging into the tree bark. He looked on as an enormous sand beast thrashed about, violently clearing the forest of its greenery.

"I…don't want to see any more of my precious people get hurt," he stated. He didn't care that the curse mark was throbbing, sucking him of his energy or that he was likely to die trying to fight Gaara in that strange form.

Beside him, Naruto's eyes widened at the revelation. Precious people, the two words echoed in his mind. He trembled and got to his feet as well. He thumped a fist to his chest.

"Sasuke, you and Sakura, you guys are important to me too," Naruto said and turned to Sasuke. The other was surprised, unsure of how to react. Naruto glared ahead and smirked.

"Temporary truce?" he offered and Sasuke nodded, snapping out of his daze.

"Yeah, let's do this."

Naruto dashed forward and created multiple shadow clones to jump Gaara. One by one they were swept away by a hard, sandy arm, numbers quickly dwindling. A kunai flew past the clones and stuck into the branch sand ninja was on. It exploded, a blast of white smoke mixed with debris whipping in their faces.

"Hey, Naruto, listen," Sasuke said, panting slightly. Naruto leapt next to him, readying himself for when Gaara would charge at them.

"What is it?"

"It's going to be just barely, but I think I can manage one more chidori." Naruto eyed Sasuke's weary form. He could tell the other was already past his limits and his lips thinned into a line. He nodded. He positioned his hands into a seal.

"The moment the attack connects, take Sakura and run as fast as you can, got it?" Naruto exhaled, an ear-piercing screech and clear view of a crazed Gaara.

"Shadow replication jutsu!" Naruto shouted. "Leave it to me." He flashed a smile and was off. He swung from a branch and landed on top of Gaara, a kunai in his hand. Another clone was throwing shurikens by his feet and lower half. Gaara's elbow came flying at the real Naruto on his back. He couldn't make it. A tug on his collar pulled him back at the last second, a dangerous claw grazing his nose.

Sasuke ducked and propelled his body weight towards Gaara's shoulder. The other tipped backwards, losing balance from his wide swing when a force attacked a weak spot. A couple of Naruto's clones popped up behind and locked Gaara's arms in place.

Good, Sasuke thought as he weaved the signs for a chidori. Gaara's recovery was instantaneous. He spun backwards, a leg lashing out and catching Sasuke's chin. Sasuke's hands fell away, the sign disrupted and incomplete. He coughed, air expelled from his lungs in one swoop.

Wildly, Gaara roared and flung the clones hard into the tree. He lunged at Sasuke who had no way of moving in mid-air. He saw a glimpse of blond and stretched hand out. Gaara swung a fist and he fell through. He growled in confusion. Naruto grabbed onto Sasuke's wrist as Sasuke did the same. They flew to another tree, many Naruto clones forming a vine of some sort to get them across.

Gaara's tail snapped and before Sasuke could turn around to see where it was aimed, Naruto kicked him.

"Naru—" His voice halted in his throat. His eyes widened, black pupils dilating in apprehension. Naruto was struck by the tail and slammed to the ground with a loud boom. Gaara released a keening noise, form changing again into something larger and Sasuke took the pause of attacks to check on Naruto. He jumped down and landed clumsily. He rolled Naruto onto his back to get a better look of the damage.

"Hey, Naruto."

Naruto's fingers were shaking as it seemed like he was weaving another sign. Red chakra flared in licks, enveloping Naruto.

"What are you…" Naruto slapped his palm beside him on the ground. A seal drew on the ground, swirling.

"Summoning a strong ally…" he answered. Sasuke yelped, the plain they were standing on shaking and rumbling. They were elevating, but he couldn't see what was happening with the smoke. Once it cleared, he blinked. What in the world? Naruto chuckled.

"Strong ally, huh?"

"Who dares to summon me in th—" an irritating voice bellowed. He stopped and exhaled, removing the pipe from his mouth.

It was a freaking toad. A huge one at that.

"Naruto…" the toad spoke. There was too many things occurring at the same time that Sasuke's head was spinning. There was a sand beast, similar in size as the toad they were on and Naruto was…Naruto was…

"Hey, Naruto," he called the other's name. Naruto snickered, choking on his own breath. He reached to pat the side of Sasuke's face.

Blood. It was blood that was coming from Naruto's mouth. Sasuke's fingers wrapped around a thin wrist.

"What are you doing. A whip like that shouldn't even hurt you," Sasuke said. Naruto smiled.

"It doesn't hurt, dumbass," he retorted and the lifeless tone hit Sasuke. "Hey Sasuke, try not to worry Kakashi-sensei and Sakura…"

"This isn't the time to talk about those things." Sasuke's palms pressed into Naruto's skin more—one around his wrist and on his shoulder. They didn't have time for this chit chat. His stomach dropped at Naruto's shake. To him, this was the most appropriate time for this type of talk.

"If you chase Itachi, that's fine."

"Naruto." Stop.

"But you know, you're important to me. You matter to Sakura-chan and Kakashi-sensei too," Naruto continued, vision gradually getting blurry. He couldn't see Sasuke's face all too clear anymore. It took so much effort to speak, like something was lodged in his guts.

"Naruto, enough." Not now.

"I'm glad that you were my first friend," Naruto whispered and grinned. His hand went limp. Sasuke looked and looked, but no matter how he looked, Naruto was injured and beyond help. Maybe it was a genjutsu, a trick, one of Naruto's jokes.

He shook, unable to comprehend the state of his friend. The only person that could understand Sasuke's loneliness, who was bright and positive that it irritated him as well as gave him hope. Now an empty shell was left. Gone like his clan. Corpses littering the road.

"Brat, he's no longer…" The ruckus didn't bother him, the toad jumping and swinging his blade at the sand beast didn't shake him off the toad's head.

Squeezing his wrist, Sasuke brushed down Naruto's face to close his eyes. He stared, jaw tightening, chest tightening, insides boiling and skin freezing.

He'd kill him. The one who hurt him. Slaughter them cruelly until the word mercy vanished from the face of the earth.

He'd burn them.

Sasuke's eyes bled. He glared at the rampaging beast and concentrated. He wanted that thing to suffer. The back of his eye sockets burned and he paid it no mind. His rage and bloodlust smothered even himself.

And he set the monster on fire—engulfed in the black flames that it deserved.

* * *

Screaming, he hurled a kunai at the other. There was a clang, hitting against a metal surface and then a clatter as it dropped.

The six year old Sasuke kneeled on the hard ground, panting. His brother had murdered every single one of the clan members and he couldn't understand why. Why did Itachi kill everyone, their mother and father, and point a knife at him? He rambled on and on about power, the Uchiha eyes and other things the younger couldn't make sense of. It hardly registered in his mind.

Sasuke lifted his head, grasping his left elbow. His heart stopped in his chest.

"Why," he whispered. "Nii-san, why're you crying?" Itachi clutched the kunai in his hand tighter. Tears welled in Sasuke's eyes and he began crawling, limping whatever movement he could manage, towards his brother. Never. He had never seen Itachi—so strong, intelligent and graceful—cry and yet here he was, standing in front of Sasuke, running tears staining his face.

All he was thinking about now was Itachi. What kind of scary thing happened to his older brother for him to show such a sad expression?

"Hate me, Sasuke…" Itachi said again, trying his best to stay in his role. He had to be cruel for Sasuke to become strong enough to protect himself. He'll be safe this way, he thought. But it seemed his baby brother hadn't heard him and he involuntarily shivered. It was no good, his resolve was wavering once more. A hand clasped around his ankle and hesitantly, he looked down.

"Where are you going, nii-san? Don't go," Sasuke whimpered. He stared up into Itachi's eyes and trembled. He didn't get anything, why his brother was acting like this and why he was feeling afraid. Why Itachi looked like he was about to be knocked over by the wind and collapse into a quivering mess.

"Sasu…ke," Itachi croaked, his voice cracking.

"Please, please, don't go."

"Sasuke, let go…" He had to kick Sasuke off, pry his hand off him, something. He wasn't confident that he could maintain the stoic character he knew he had to play. He wouldn't be able to hold himself together, not when his brother was clinging onto him this desperately. Itachi's breath stilled as he watched the shine in Sasuke's eyes slowly dull; he was finally losing conscious.

No. If he let go now, his only chance would slip through his fingers. No, stay awake, Sasuke willed, don't sleep, don't close your eyes, don't. He took a deep breath and bit his lip. He felt warm liquid trickle from the tear and chuckled weakly. He wouldn't lose to exhaustion.

"Itachi…" Sasuke was staring at his brother's ankle. "Don't leave me alone."

The grip on his kunai gripped painfully to the point Itachi's nails were drawing blood from his palm. He watched the tears overflow and flood endlessly down Sasuke's cheeks. His jaw was clenched harshly, teeth grinding against each other. Shaky breaths filled the space between them and right now, Itachi was sure it came from both him and Sasuke.

"Tell me why you're crying." Sasuke tried to convey his worry for Itachi and tried to make his voice as gentle as possible to comfort his big brother. But he couldn't and sobbed. Itachi's hand clawed his Anbu armour. His breaths came out as ragged puffs and he sank to his knees.

Unable to keep his fingers wrapped around Itachi's ankles with the shift of position, Sasuke's grip was undone.

"Forgive me, Sasuke," Itachi murmured, reaching out two fingers. Sasuke's eyes instantly widened at the gesture.

He shut his eyes and screamed, "No. No, take me with you, nii-san!" Even when the fingers touched Sasuke's forehead, he continued shouting frantically, "I'll be good. I won't bug you anymore to watch me train. Take me with you. Mom and dad are gone." He sniffed, snot dripping out of his nose. The fingers froze in place.

"I don't want to live if you aren't with me!" Sasuke's eyes snapped open again, searching Itachi's face for a response. Arms pulled him to a chest and he stopped flailing. "Nii-san…?"

"Sasuke, are you sure?" Itachi asked, barely audible. He was going to ruin Sasuke's life. He was going to destroy this child's life and it was going to be by his hands. He felt Sasuke's fist his shirt and nod.

"I don't want to be apart from nii-san…" was Sasuke's last words before he black out. Itachi stood, carrying Sasuke in his arms. He stroked the boy's spiky locks as he took a final memory of the Uchiha district streets and turned.

He could easily set Sasuke down somewhere. He could leave him here and let him experience a life surrounded by wonderful friends and supportive teachers who'd push him to grow as a person. Itachi had the power to do that.

But he couldn't. A choked sob left his lips, fresh tears rolling down. Not when Sasuke saw him cry and try to comfort him. When he begged him to be taken away from the village, discarding the possibilities of a peaceful life despite what Itachi had just done.

The air swirled and a man in an orange mask appeared. He dusted his long cloak. Noticing a bulge underneath Itachi's matching black cloak, he raised an amused eyebrow—though it was unseen by the young teen.

"So you couldn't do it," he said. Itachi remained silent, a somber frown tugging his features. His fingers thread through Sasuke's strands of hair, watching him sleep. The back of his hand caressed his brother's soft cheek.

"Sorry," Itachi said and shook his head. The other shrugged.

"No matter. We can find uses in him when he grows a little older." He smirked as Sharingan eyes flared at him. He raised his hands in surrender.

"If he's going to stick around, he'll have to work," the man said.

While Sasuke didn't necessarily have to associate with the Akatsuki, he'd need to become stronger. Itachi knew there would be great obstacles standing in their way in the near future and he would ensure Sasuke was ready.

"I understand."


	7. Blur (part 2)

**A/N** : Pretty tired, but here we are (I really should start my paper that's due next week). I couldn't fit Sasuke and Itachi's part in this one so maybe next time.

 **Pairing** : None, incest

 **Summary** : Continuation of Blur.

 **Warning/tags** : incest, non-con, sexual abuse, inaccurate depiction of abuse (because I don't know what it's like)

* * *

He heard his brother yell from behind the door. Concern for Madara clutched at Izuna and he tried to leave his mother's lap. The limbs wrapped around him prevented him and his mother pulled him back.

"Mom, let go," Izuna said. He was worried about his brother. He'd heard Madara yell before, but there was always a reason for it. The deep authoritative voice responding to his brother's shouts was his father and it made him think Madara was in trouble. If he was, Izuna had to be there to defend him.

His mother nuzzled his hair and murmured, "Stay here, Izuna." He turned to her, frowning.

"But nii-san is…" he started and his mother hushed him. There was a loud bang and both of them jumped. Izuna stared ahead at the door shaking in its hinges, sometimes catching glimpses of his brother's angry face through the opening. He couldn't hear exactly what Madara was saying because it sounded forcefully muffled.

"…Izuna then," Madara shouted. He looked to side, locking eyes with Izuna on the other side of the door. The door slid wider, a large hand on the edge opening it. Their father had a stern and defeated expression.

"Come, Izuna," his father ordered. Izuna blinked, eyes shifting from his father to his brother. He stood, this time without resistance and stepped up in front of his father. Tajima gave his youngest son a glance over and left the room. Izuna nodded to his mother to excuse himself and went to Madara.

"Are we in trouble?" he whispered. Madara tore his gaze off his father's back and smiled at Izuna.

"No, father just has something to tell us," Madara said and ruffled his little brother's hair upon seeing him look uncertain. Izuna grabbed his hand and squeezed.

* * *

For the next week, the two brothers kept their conversations to a minimum or rather, it was Madara that became quieter around Izuna. Izuna was bothered by this. It wasn't like he had done anything to make the other mad and it wasn't like his brother was avoiding him. Whether they were eating at the table, brushing their teeth in the bathroom together, or passing by in the house, it was awkward.

At first, Izuna didn't notice his brother's sudden change and bugged him as usual to watch him train. If he wasn't so excited that Madara agreed, he would've seen the sadness marring his face. That day was spent with him throwing shurikens at targets where his brother would correct his stance and light spars.

"What's wrong, Izuna?" Madara asked. His little brother had been scratching his neck insistently the past few minutes. Izuna's hand stopped and he pouted.

"My neck's itchy," he whined. Madara laughed and shrugged.

"You get bitten by mosquitoes too often." Izuna stuck his tongue out at him, hand leaving the neck.

"It's not my fault!" His arms lifted to cross across his chest when Madara snatched his wrist. His brother's hand was shaking and Izuna looked at him in confusion.

"What happened to…to your neck?" Madara spoke in an inaudible volume. Izuna's brow knit together, tilting his head.

"They're bites," he answered. He didn't understand why his brother was acting strangely or why he seemed upset. He let Madara brush aside his high collar and inspect his neck. Fingers gently rubbed his skin and he hummed in content. It soothed the itch a bit.

There was no bump or swelling. They weren't mosquito bites.

"You didn't get bitten by a bug," he stated and Izuna shook his head.

"Mom gave me them," Izuna said. It was something that happened often between him and his mother—exchanging kisses, cuddling and soft touches. She told him it was what people did when they loved and he did love his mother. Madara was distraught, speechless. He removed his hand from Izuna and had them hovering over his brother.

"Are you okay? She didn't do anything you didn't like?" he asked hurriedly. Seeing Madara like this was extremely unusual, not that his brother was uncaring, he never acted like _this_.

"Nii-san, I'm fine. Why are you asking me that? You're kind of being weird." Maybe he has a fever, he thought and reached out to check Madara's temperature. He could feel his brother relax as he put a palm on Madara's forehead.

"You're not sick." Then what was it, that was making his brother weird? Acting out of character, jumpy even.

A smile, just the twitch of the corners of his lips had Izuna's gaze stay on the other. However sad or unhappy his brother was, his eyes never lied and right now, Madara's eyes expressed relief. He had the habit of wearing a calm mask around their parents. Madara was always at ease in his presence and Izuna held pride in that.

Exhaling deeply, Madara took ahold of Izuna's shoulders. "If mother ever does something you don't like, tell her to stop, okay?" He wasn't sure what to make of his mother and little brother's relation, especially with their father's words in mind.

Izuna pondered the idea for a while, nodding as he came to the conclusion his mother hadn't done anything he hated. Madara knew Izuna was confused when he tugged his little brother into a tight hug. He rested his head on Izuna's shoulder, determined to keep at least the dangerous threat, their father, away from the younger.

"Nii-san?"

But that was where he was mistaken. That wasn't where his father's intentions laid.

Every night, Madara took the liberty of checking up on Izuna and he suspected his brother was aware of it by the fifth night. Izuna didn't bring the topic up in the morning, simply trusting him. He was afraid that if he was ever assigned an overnight mission, something would happen to Izuna. Surely, their mother would protect Izuna as he was her favourite.

There was one more thing he was afraid of if he dared to admit it.

The day their father explained to them of their lineage and special bloodline was the day Madara became afraid of him. Izuna was still thinking at the time that they were in trouble as they followed their father to his room while Madara was apprehensive of what was to come.

"Do you love your mother, Izuna?" Tajima asked, glancing at his younger brother. Taken off guard by the question, Izuna stumbled out the obvious answer.

"Yes." His father nodded in approval, watchful gaze assessing Izuna. He appeared to be in thought.

"Has she taught you about love?"

Love? Why would anyone need to be taught about love?

"The one where the more we love our family and show it, the stronger we get?" Izuna said, waving a finger in the air. Tajima smiled, genuinely smiled, and it baffled Madara. His father who was strict and hardly satisfied with anything was joyed? It was also the first time he'd heard any of this. Love for their family made them stronger. There was no other way to interpret what "show it" meant: to physically show love towards another person was exactly what Izuna and his mother, even he was doing on a daily basis.

"Yes, that one," he confirmed. "It looks like you'll get your Sharingan earlier than your older brother if you understand that." Izuna beamed at the praise.

"You hear that, nii-san? Just watch me, I'll catch up to you in no time," he said triumphantly and turned to Madara.

"Y-yeah. That's great Izuna, but don't think I'll lose to you," Madara retorted and gave a his little brother a smirk. Tajima excused Izuna after it was clear the younger understood things Madara hadn't been informed of. His brother shot him a worried look, closing the door and he smiled, mouthing that he'd be okay.

Tajima sighed, combing his bangs back with his fingers. "Well, it seems I've been neglecting your education for too long, Madara."

He had to wonder, what else did he need to learn besides fighting and assassination techniques? Already, Madara didn't like the direction the conversation was taking. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was, because that wouldn't be right.

"From today onwards, we're going to add more to your training, understood?" Madara shuffled on his feet.

"What do you mean by more training?" His father chuckled.

"I'll teach you about your body, Madara." Tajima beckoned his son with a finger and Madara had no choice but to obey. "Good boy," his father whispered.

The bed squeaked as his knee pressed down the mattress. He lay on his back as his father sat beside him, caressing his cheek. Madara stared up at the ceiling, having nowhere else to look. The attention Tajima was smothering him with made him uncomfortable.

"All I'm doing is teaching you, you don't have to look that scared," Tajima said. His fingers traced lower, resting on his son's neck. Something stirred in his stomach when he felt goosebumps raising beneath his touch.

"It's nothing scary," he reassured. Madara shut his eyes as hands undressed him of his yukata and stroked his chest. He wished the room was cold and freezing to numb his senses, but instead, it was warm and humid. Blood was rising to the surface of his skin. The rough hand slithered downwards. He gasped and shoved his father away.

"Stop!" Madara shouted, bolting upright. Tajima grunted and scowled.

"Are you in your rebellious stage?" he scoffed. Madara scrambled back. "Is that any way to behave when your father is trying to teach you something that will make you stronger?"

"Like this would make me any stronger," Madara snapped. "I don't need the Sharingan if this is what I have to do." Tajima shook his head in amazement. His son was naive, too naive and innocent. He'd have to fix that. He grabbed Madara by his ankles, dragging him down the bed. He brought his face close to his son's.

"Listen Madara, you will acquire the Sharingan and I will make you even if I have to force you." Tajima pinned Madara to the mattress. He was growing weary of the other's flailing and thrashing. He placed his lips by Madara's ear, licking it, relishing in the small shiver he received in response.

"Perhaps I should give Izuna a lesson as well," Tajima muttered and Madara stiffened. He fisted his father's collar and pulled him close. He quaked and squashed the erratic beating of his heart. He bid a farewell to himself.

"Touch me," Madara said.

 _Don't touch Izuna._

Tajima's eyes widened, gleaming in amusement. He won, but he needed more. "What a cruel brother you are. You should be glad Izuna will be learning from me." Madara shifted.

"I don't care, just…don't bother with Izuna," he started and bit the inside of his mouth. "Touch me," Madara said and guided his father's hand to cup him. He couldn't stand to see his father smirk.

"What a selfish boy you are…" The springs creaked as Tajima climbed onto the bed. "Very well, I'll indulge you."

His father touched in him places where he'd never touched. His father. Madara was conflicted. His father, the one who raised him and trained him all his life and he loved him, but Madara didn't like him touching him in that way. It was strange, wasn't it? Only someone special, someone he was comfortable with should be allowed to caress him like that. His family was special, yet he felt gross when his father rubbed against him.

It started off with Madara's father teaching him the basics of pleasure and what masturbation was. Tajima would grope him in his pants to hardness and continue to knead his privates until he was satisfied. It wasn't difficult to sit there and wait until his father finished whatever he did.

They had an argument that complicated their relation further. His father wanted him to pleasure him. When Madara refused, he was slapped. His hair was harshly gripped and his jaw was forced open. It was disgusting. He wanted to vomit his guts out. He didn't like the musky scent his father gave off and didn't like that his father was chafing his lips with the rocking of his hips. Madara choked several times and learned it was easier and quicker if he did as his father said.

"Get on your hands and knees," Tajima commanded and Madara hesitantly did. He stared at the white sheets wrinkling beneath him as his father trailed his index finger along his spine. His back arched to the finger and he squeaked. He froze.

 _Don't let him notice._

Chuckling, Tajima exerted pressure again on his son's spine, purposefully grazing the skin in a sensual manner. Madara groaned, twisting his upper body away from his father.

"You're quite sensitive here," Tajima mused. Madara shook his head, clutching the bedsheets. Tears prickled his eyes as he flushed in shame. He didn't want his father to have another of his weakness in his grasp. He should've kept it hidden better.

"Excited now aren't we?" Tajima raised an eyebrow, surprised he could get Madara aroused with such ease. Heat was rushing to Madara's cheeks and spreading throughout his body. He wished he could stop himself from making noises, stop his breathlessness. His body was liking it even if he wanted to both break those offensive fingers one by one and scrape the layer of skin that had been contaminated.

"Shall I teach you about this part while I'm at it, Madara?" Tajima pressed against him and probed a finger at his behind. Reflexively, his leg swung to kick his father. Tajima cocked his head, catching his ankle.

"I see…" Tajima narrowed his gaze at Madara.

"Stop it," Madara spat, returning the glare. "Stop. Do you know what they call our clan, father?" He heard Tobirama before complaining to Hashirama. "They call us a cursed clan."

"I'm aware," Tajima replied coolly, grip on his ankle tightening.

"Then stop. It's because you keep doing these things to us kids tha—" He was muffled by his father's hand clamping over his mouth. His neck strained as his head was driven into the mattress. His breath hitched. A pair of swirling Sharingan was staring into him.

"Be quiet," Tajima growled. He jabbed a dry finger into his son. Madara cried out in pain, shakily stretching his fingers to dig into his father's throat.

"Stop it, you bastard." He lifted his leg to kick the man again, but it was restrained by Tajima's hand that flew off his mouth.

"Izuna would be disappointed in you." With that one name, Madara's will to defy was lost. It frustrated him, how much power his little brother had over him. Hated how much Izuna controlled him.


End file.
